My Name Is
by My life is a h0t mess
Summary: I am Bruce Banner. I am a fugitive. To the rest of the world, at least. To my friends, I am a hero. I live and work with the Teen Titans in Jump City. They know I have an anger problem, but that's all right. This is the story of me, Bruce Banner, a.k.a. Beast Boy.
1. This Is Me

**Right, so it's pretty obvious I don't own The Incredible Hulk nor Teen Titans, but I guess I should say that anyway.**

**Give me feedback on this brief chapter, por favor. Read, enjoy, review, repeat!**

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My name is Bruce. But that is not who I am. I cannot stress that enough. To all you folk out there who call yourselves ill-tempered, you haven't seen anything until you have met the other guy. The other me. The part of me that makes me a fugitive to some, but a hero to others. I've been on the run from my homeland since I learned to walk. They want me dead. And for a long time, that's what I wanted, too.

My name is Bruce. I have a bit of an anger issue. When I say a bit, I mean I become homicidal and I lose myself. I don't know who I am. I don't remember where I am. All of my loved ones mean nothing to me when I'm angry. Passion? There is none. Motive? Nonexistent. I just get this incredible urge to . . . smash. I've been this way ever since I was born. My parents had no idea what was wring with me when I popped into this world with green skin and pointed ears. But whenever I threw a tantrum, I would leave a hole in my nursery wall.

My name is Bruce. My name is a burden to me. I don't use my name. What do my friends call me?

You can call me Beast Boy.


	2. Before

When I was young, my parents just didn't know what to do with me. I was a mess. I was loud. I was _green._ They kept me shielded from the public because they were terrified of their image being ruined by a monster with a temper like me. I guess it isn't true to say both of them didn't love me- I mean, they protected me from the outside world well enough, right?

My dad's best friend was the bottle and, yes, he was the one who hated me to no end. My mom loved me deeply, and I loved her. She understood that I didn't mean to be this way. But, one night to my own regret, I got angry. My dad started hitting my mom and I lost it. He was a bastard low-life, but if I could take that night back I swear to God I would.

But Daddy's dead.

So is Mommy.

She got caught in the crossfires of my rage.

Ever since then, I've been considered a danger to society. The Man has been after me for forever. I had to flee my home and make my way to a place where I knew I would be safe. Only a teenager and I knew how the world worked. I had to find a place where they accepted people like me. Different people with special abilities and dark pasts. Or, at least, I hope that place would accept me. I only ever wanted a place to call my own.

On my trek across the nation, I found a place where I could rest and hide in plain sight. Guess? The circus of course. The freak show. They called me 'Beast Boy', but I actually really like the name. I abandoned the name 'Bruce' and everyone called me by my stage name. (I mean, come one. Bruce Banner. Beast Boy. It's all about the alliteration.) I quickly became the main attraction and The Boss was pleased.

"How would you like a permanent spot in the show, kid?" He had once asked me. I was, in a word, shocked. "You're gonna go far, kid. Trust me." I still remember the smell of his cigar as he blew it through his nose.

"Gee, Boss, can I think about it?" I asked. He laughed a wheezy, coughing laugh.

"Sure, kid. Now, get outta here. Go on, scram." He tried to be endearing, but he always sounded rugged.

I remember leaving his fume-filled tent to go to my much smaller one across the lot. It was night and the black sky was filled with shining stars. The cool wind kissed my face as I walked. I remember being stopped by my friend. She had dirt all over her- probably from wrestling with the completely tamed bear that performs with us. Her blonde hair was swinging around her small-framed shoulders. She went by the name Terra.

"C'mon, BB," Terra's voice had pleaded. Her gloved hands were wrapped around my thin arm, tugging me towards her tent. "Just one sleep over and I'll be happy!" I remember sighing.

"Terra, you know they'll start to talk," I had mock scolded, nodding over to the 'world's strongest man' and his pack of silent clowns and mimes. I patted her hand. "Maybe next time." Terra had pouted.

"I'll hold you to it." She had kissed my green cheek with her pink, soft lips and cartwheeled away to her own living quarters. I had chuckled out a soft sigh.

Terra was the easiest person to get along with. She was sweet, funny, charming, smart, and she could talk about anything. She was the reason Boss had even considered letting me, a runaway green kid with inner turmoil, into the show. And I'm grateful to her. But as I made my way to my pale olive-green tent that sat thirty feet from her pink one, I questioned if that was a good thing.

I remember pushing aside the outside flap of my tent that acted as a door. I took note of the dark silhouettes that littered my quarters as my eyes adjusted to the dark. A hammock for a bed in the corner, a small table that was covered in papers with writing on them (I was a bit of a nerd and loved science (still do) so I kept daily journals), and candles strewn about the place. I plucked a box of matches from my back pocket and struck one on the box and the room was suddenly alight. I lit a white, half-melted candle to my left, creating more incandescence in the small room. I flicked the match, putting out its flame.

"Well, well," a voice crooned from my hammock. Surprised, I dropped the matches and they thudded softly to the dirt floor. "Looks like the Goblin is home."

"General," I said before clearing my throat. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same thing."

"This is my tent."

"No, Grinch," the General- stage name, no actual authority- stood up. He was a tall man with a mask that concealed his face. Half was a copper-colour and the other half was a dark shade of grey- almost black. He was mostly decked out in black and his voice was rough and low. He was the death-defying act of the show. "What are you doing _here._" General Slade took a step towards me. I took a step back.

"I don't follow."

"Don't act dumb, _Brucey,_" he growled at me. I glared at him.

"Please don't call me that," I requested politely. I made a half-turn, exposing the door to him. "I would like you to leave, now."

"Tch," he spat. He took two strides and stood in the doorway before he turned around. "I know what you are." He walked out without another word.

As the flap opened, wind whipped at my face, blowing back my spiked green hair. I picked up my matched from the ground and quickly lit my other candles that were randomly placed around the room. I sat in the middle of the flood in the now fully lit tent. With closed eyes and even breaths, I tried to meditate. I couldn't lose it. It's been thirty days without an accident. My high score. I could not let that man ruin it for me.

But what did he mean? "_I know what you are"._ What? What am I? Green. Male.

_Killer._ A voice in my head hissed. I cringed. _Murderer._ I clutched my head, trying to get the voice to stop. _Slayer._

"Stop it," I growled under my breath, feeling my teeth sharpen as I clenched my jaw shut. "Please."

My breathing got out of control, my heart pounded inside of my chest- I felt like I was about to lose it. I had to leave- go far away from there so I wouldn't hurt anyone. So I wouldn't kill anybody. I don't want to harm her.

Terra.

I didn't think twice about it before I dashed out of my tent and started running away. I hurt my heart to hear the voices calling after me.

"Where ya goin'?"

"Beasty, you okay?"

And the one voice I heard . . . It killed me on the inside.

"BB, what are you doing?" Terra was worried for me. I could hear it in her tone. But I was protecting her, so I had to go. My eyes started to sting, but I blinked those cursed tears away. I just had to keep running.

Would I ever stop running? Will there ever be a time when I won't have to be afraid of hurting others? Will there be a time where I can be with her? Would I ever find her again? Those are the questions that kept me going until I couldn't anymore and dropped. I was in the middle of no where, but I had to rest. I let my eyes slip shut and I was carried away to unconsciousness.

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**Yaaay! I got reviews! :D Awesomeness, kay so thank y'all for the feedback! Right, so, in this story, I am making Bruce Banner and Beast Boy (Garfield Logan) the _same__ person._Just to clear up the confusion. :) All right, thanks again for the love! *internet hug* Favourite, follow, review, OH MY!  
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	3. City Lights

I woke up with dirt coating my tongue and sand stuck to the side of my face. The sun was beating down on my back as I rose to my feet. I was thirsty, so I had to get some place with water. But I was in the town next to nowhere. I had no clue where I was. Looking from left to right, I chose to go left. Where would that lead me? No clue. How would I know when I got there? No idea. But I just had to keep moving.

"Fun," I muttered under my breath.

I walked for God knows how long. If was some colour between emerald green and sunburn pink, that would be the colour of my complexion. I had been in a desert-type scene, but I found and followed a long road. There was haze from the sun's heat being emitted from the asphalt. It wasn't even that hot out, but I think the lack of water was making me see things. Plus, the sun's harmful rays made it worse. My throat was dry and as I swallowed what little saliva I could produce, I saw the lights.

Popping over the horizon, I saw a few multicoloured lights. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, thinking it was a mirage, but as I walked further, I saw more of them. I realised they were buildings. More and more began to show up before I figured out that this was not a hallucination. There were city lights; I had found a city. I would have shouted with glee if my throat wasn't sandpaper.

Soon enough, I reached the city. I was glad to find that it wasn't as aggressive as New York or Philadelphia. A green kid in the most hostile city in America? No. Thank. You. Sure, though, I was given odd looks- I was a green kid covered in dirt- but no one approached me or gave me a hard time. I was heading towards some pizza place I saw to ask for some tap water (apparently, bottle water costs money in fast food places?) when I over heard someone call this place "Jump City".

"Excuse me," I said after I chugged my water and cleared my throat. The two girls- one with red hair and one with blonde hair- turned around, almost startled. I ignored their odd expressions. "Are the Teen Titans here?" The blonde and the red head exchanged a look and the blonde shrugged.

"Yeah," she said and pointed northwest. "Their tower is over there."

"Thank you."

I remember dashing off in that direction. No matter how tired I was before, I had a whole new reason to keep going. I had heard of this group called the Teen Titans. They were heroes for this placed called Jump City. I nearly choked on air when I discovered my stroke of luck. It was a long shot of whether or not they'd accept me, but it's worth a shot, isn't it? And I heard that they have helped people like me before, so why can't they help me, too?

I found the tower that girl was talking about. It looked like a giant T with blacked out windows. This tower was on an island- its own, personal island. Do the taxpayers know that this is what they're paying for? A tricked out pad for a bunch of teenagers? I thought not. So, surrounded by crystal blue water, the island sat as a beacon, drawing me to it like moths to a flame. I was just glad I knew how to swim.

After my dip in the cool bay's water, I walked on the island until I reached the front door. This might look a tad odd. I'll look like some algae or seaweed from the bay that came to life, sprouted arms and legs, and has wonderful taste in purple and black fashion. I cleared my throat and released an anxious breath. What's the worst that can happen, right? I made sure that my heart rate was average before I knocked on the door three times. A pause. I knocked again.

"Calm down, I'm coming," a muffled girl's voice called from inside. She sounded extremely monotone, interested, and down right annoyed. I nervously raked my fingers through my hair. The door slid open and I initially blinked at the sight before me. This was some goth chick that was as tall as I was on front of me. She had on a purple cloak with a hood concealing her face. The was a red circular gem-type thing that pinned her cloak closed.

"We don't buy raffle tickets, and you don't look like a girl scout selling cookies," she said with that emotionless voice I had heard through the door. She flashed a pair of dazzlingly dark eyes at me. "What do you want?" I cleared my throat and gave her a pleasant smile.

"Hi, my name is Beast Boy," I introduced myself. "As you can see, I'm different from the _average_ person-"

"So?" I cleared my throat again.

"Look, I'm just trying to find a place where I can be accepted and not have people judge me," I explained briefly. Her expression remained neutral. "And I heard this was the place for people like me-"

"Come in," she said, turning around. Her cloak fanned around her. I stepped in and the door closed behind me. I jogged to catch up to the girl, and I was walking next to her.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name?" She gave me a side glance before pausing. She stopped walking and I followed suit. She turned to me and eyed me over, sizing me up- analysing me. She then looked into my green eyes and said:

"I'm Raven." She extended a hand out to me, her skin pale in comparison to her black, long-sleeved attire. I smiled, taking the hand.

"Raven," I said, pleased. "It's a pleasure to meet you."


	4. Meeting

So that girl, Raven, led me to a room where I sat for I don't know how long. I was seated in one of the two chairs that were in there. It had white walls that burned to look at for too long. There was no decor on the walls, not even a clock for me to keep time. There was a one-way glass window on one wall where I could just feel the eyes of others on me. It really felt like a prison's interrogation room. I half expected a cop from the nineteen-sixties to come in and start questioning me about the night of the day of the crime in which the law was broken.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, a boy about my age entered the room through a door that locked shut with a soft _click_. He had ridiculously spiked black hair and a mask that concealed his eyes- identity issues, I see. He had a firm and serious expression, but he didn't appear to be menacing. He was wearing a red shirt with green short sleeves, green gloves to match, and a yellow 'R' on his chest. He also had cape and green . . . tights?

"So," he said, pulling a chair up and sitting in it. He leaned back with his arms folded across his chest. "Raven tells me your name is Beast Boy." I nodded.

"That is correct," I confirmed. I mimicked his posture. "Can I know your name, as well?" He considered it.

"Robin."

"Birds must be pretty popular here, huh?" I joked, but he was unphased. I coughed. "That was a joke. I was joking."

"I know."

"But you aren't laughing."

"I don't laugh at things that aren't funny." Robin's voice seemed to be playful, but he was being serious, as well. I coughed again.

"So, what do you want to know about lil' ole me?" I asked, trying to pass the awkwardness. Robin shifted his weight in thought. I tensed as he took longer to respond than I thought was necessary.

"Do you want to be a hero?" Though it sounded like a statement, I know he was searching for an answer. I raised my eyebrows, surprised at his question.

"Excuse me?"

"Beast Boy," he began, "the Teen Titans are members of organisations across the globe. Titans West- that's us- are here to protect the citizens of Jump City from villains. From evil. We are the defenders of the people who can't defend themselves. We do good things for good people. I'll ask again." He leaned forward and looked me straight in the eyes. "Do you want to be a hero?"

I hadn't really thought about that. I guess I didn't exactly think through my price of admission. A hero? Me? The green, homicidal freak with a temper protecting a city? An _entire city_? I wasn't too confident about it. But as I sat there, watching Robin's expectant features, I couldn't find it in me to let him down. I don't know what it was, but I just couldn't say no.

"Yes," I said in a breathless whisper. "I can be a hero." Robin shook his head.

"I know you _can_. I can tell by looking at you," he said. I must have looked puzzled because he went on. "I asked if you _want _to be a hero. Being one doesn't mean shit if it's not what you want." I nodded.

"I want to be a hero," I said, certain. "I know I can help people. I _want_ to protect people. But . . ."

"What?" Robin frowned. I ran a hand through my hair as I released a slow breath through my parted lips.

"Look . . . I can do things, but . . . I have no control over it. When I can use it or how I can use it." I looked at Robin with beseeching eyes. "I'm dangerous, man." Robin leaned back.

"We've helped plenty of people in situations like that," he told me. "We can help you control your powers." I shook my head and stood up from my chair. I paced the length of the room.

"You don't get it," I said, frustrated. I chewed the knuckle of my thumb. Robin had followed my action and stood up. I felt his eyes watching me closely. "It isn't _power_. It's a damn curse. Nothing to marvel at." My back was to Robin. I heard him sigh and make his way over to me. He lightly gripped my elbow and turned me to face him. His expression was considerate.

"Beast Boy, whatever it is, I promise we can help you." I looked at him warily.

"You keep saying 'we'," I stated. "Where are the others? Back there?" I pointed at the glass and Robin smiled.

"Yeah," he nodded. He started to guide me to the door. "They'd love to me you. Come on." He looked in the glass and said, "Living room, guys." It felt as if there was movement on the other side, then there was nothing. "Let's go."

Robin took me to this big room with an enormous window as one of the walls. There was a big half-circle couch in the middle of the place with a matching full-circle coffee table in front of it. There was a section of the room that looked like a kitchen and a small dining area across from that. But the main set up of the living room wasn't the first thing I noticed. Instead, I noticed the three teenagers standing in the centre of the room, grins on their faces.

"Yo, little Shrek," a big guy said. "Name's Cyborg." This guy . . . whoa. He really was a cyborg. Half of his face belonged to a black teen at some point in time, whilst the other half had blue circuitry and a red eye. He had a large framed build with broad shoulders. All of him was either electric blue, pure white, or storm grey. His smile was sincere and wide- I felt like we would become close.

"Hello, new friend!" A girl with orange complexion said with enthusiasm. "My name is Starfire! Wondrous to meet you!" Her eyes were strikingly green and her hair was a brilliant red. She was wearing a purple cut-off top and a too-short skirt that was the same colour. She had boots that reached the middle of her thigh, which made up for the lack of length her skirt had. Oh, another thing, she was _floating_.

Raven was there, too, but she didn't say anything to me.

"Team," Robin said, gesturing to me. "Welcome the newest Titan. Beast Boy," he turned to me and held out his hand. "Welcome."

I looked at his gloved hand that was extended towards me. I looked back at the rest of the team. Cyborg had his metallic thumb sticking up with a wink and a smile. Starfire was giggling quietly to herself as she looked at me with hopeful eyes. Raven looked bored, but I smiled anyway. I turned to Robin and firmly grasped his hand.

"Thanks, man," I said. "Glad to be on the team."


End file.
